


A sprinkle of love on the brain

by velvetkhj



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Airplanes, Christmas Special, Christmas Vacation, Eventual Romance, First Dates, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Slow Burn, Slow Dancing, Slow Romance, Strangers to Lovers, and he falls in love in four days, basically it’s just hongjoong having feelings for 10k words, hongjoong has a crisis for feeling love for someone, its brief .... like four sentences, seonghwa is very polite, settled around christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:47:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28297020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetkhj/pseuds/velvetkhj
Summary: Hongjoong needs a break from producing, before he has another breakdown due to his rapidly deteriorating healthy habits.Yunho sends him on an impromptu vacation. He meets the charming Seonghwa and everything falls into place.
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 5
Kudos: 61





	A sprinkle of love on the brain

**Author's Note:**

> hello and welcome to my christmas fic !! i literally rushed so bad trying to write this monster, because i was right in the middle of my final exams for college so i had to finish that first.  
> basically dead on my feet and i have other wips to work on now that i have the actual time to do them properly.   
> Also! reminder that english is not my first language, so please don’t be mindful of some minor mistakes or spelling. this is not beta read and ill read it over to correct those mistakes when my brain will function properly.   
> pls enjoy it and leave some kudos and comments ! :>   
> merry christmas!! 
> 
> —max :]

Putting his phone at the back of his ripped jeans that were dirty with a thin line of dust, Hongjoong cleared his throat at the loud outburst he just made, blaming his shitty CEO for being too demanding and taking  _ too much _ of the man’s time. 

Hongjoong might have been the greatest music producer and sound engineer of the entire company, but the demands of his coworkers and higher ups asked of him made him lose his beauty sleep every damn week. 

He was known inside the company for being a prodigy at a young age, already writing lyrics during elementary school. It might sound like an exaggeration, and of course it  _ wasn’t _ , but he wasn’t as eloquent and melodic using his words as he was to this day. 

He could birth out at least ten song lyrics a day, and construct a few beats from the depths of his mind in a few minutes—and he didn’t half ass  _ anything _ in his life. 

He was a real perfectionist, so much that he missed sleep willingly to correct a snare that was out of place in a track, or replace the edm beats by something else, like electric guitar strums. And so on. 

He was a  _ perfectionist _ . But he was a stubborn fucker through and through—he refused to sleep until his body would give out due to his stubbornness.  _ Go the fuck to sleep _ , his body told him. 

He just ignored it further when deadlines were not met in time. Which prompted him to have breakdowns every now and then—his manager, Jeong Yunho—who is an absolute angel stuck into a giant human body—who just stayed with him until his tears dried themselves at the end of the night. 

Or at the beginning of the day. 

The producer didn’t know the concept of time when he would work. 

Which is why, today, he was clenching his closed fist around his luggage handle, feet frozen solid inside of the Incheon airport, eyes stuck on the departure/arrivals large screen with a sigh dangerously close to his dry lips. 

He remembered what Yunho told him just before a taxi stopped at his apartment, its destination straight on the airport—

_ “You need to take a fucking break, Hongjoong. This job is killing you slowly—you stopped sleeping, eating and you forgot basic hygiene because of how demanding your work is. You need to take a vacation. And there’s no need to try and convince me to let you work. I convinced the boss to let you go alone—it’s decided.” _

Hongjoong just listened, without saying a word, with his heartbeat dancing in his chest anxiously. 

He was too shocked to even decline the offer his manager was putting straight into his palm like a silver platter—he just nodded dumbly at the news and started to gather his things to put into the biggest luggage bag he had like a robot. 

A strident ring brought him back to the present, the speaker calling his flight to the nearest gate, to prepare his flight. 

He hurried towards the gate area, presenting his passport to the agent behind her desk as he passed in the line—without skipping past anyone, mind you—and strolled slowly through the metal tunnel, his black face mask still on his face. 

Hongjoong scratched at the bridge of his nose, before fixing his mask after he was done—the plane very present in his field of vision, he picked up his pace just a bit, walking faster as he glanced at his passport and at his printed out ticket that confirmed his place on the flight and his seat number. 

He mumbled a soft  _ hi _ to the flight attendant, due to the wandering eyes of his going to Hongjoong’s bright pink hair—as if it could explode in the guy’s face. 

He moved down the airplane alley, eyes glancing at the numbers of the seats—E5, 58, E11–

_ E13 _ . 

He got a seat close to the window—Hongjoong realized, as he sat down after putting his small bag in the compartiment just under the seat in front of him, doing what the staff instructed. 

He rummaged through his personal things slowly, searching for his earphones as he took out his laptop. He took the earphones out when he finally found them, plugging them in his laptop, ready to work on some tracks as the airplane flies towards its destination—which was Holguin in Cuba, Hongjoong believed. Yunho already told him a few times but he must admit that he wasn’t listening to his manager. Sue him. 

As he made the gesture to put his earphones inside of his ears, a figure came in his field of vision and crashed into the seat just beside him with a heavy sigh. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry—”

Hongjoong turned his head and snapped his mouth open, ready to give his seat-neighbor a piece of his mind about finesse and disturbing people—

His remark died on his tongue as he glanced at the person beside him. 

Just in front of him—was the most breathtaking man in existence. 

He was panting in slight panic—probably because he came close to missing the departure of the plane—but Hongjoong didn’t  _ care _ in the slightest about that detail. 

He was absolutely stunning, so much that Hongjoong thought that it should be a crime. 

The stranger had soft, wavy dark hair that framed his face beautifully with a little blue butterfly hair clip just over his left ear that made his greyish eyes stand out. 

Hongjoong gulped as he let his eyes glance over at his button nose, his sharp cheekbones and stopping just where his slightly chubby cheeks ended. He was cute  _ and _ stunning? Literally impossible. 

The stranger opened his perfect mouth that was almost in the shape of a heart and bowed himself forward in apology for disturbing Hongjoong. 

The latter just put his earphones down, not even saying anything in return, too busy admiring the magnificent young man. 

He could feel himself flush as he  _ finally _ realized that he  _ should _ say something back—that he totally didn’t mind—

“Oh no—it’s alright, don’t beat yourself up about it. You seem to be in a hurry.” Hongjoong commented, looking at him with a smile stretching his mouth. 

The stranger looked embarrassed for a short second, and scratched at the back of his neck with a shaky hand. “My alarm clock didn’t ring today—even though I remember precisely setting it last night. And I couldn’t afford to miss a flight to a vacation that I most likely  _ deserve _ .” The man explained, raising his fingers to make air quotes at the word  _ deserve _ . 

It sounded slightly familiar, the producer thought. 

Hongjoong inclined his head to the side, frowning at the kind stranger. “Why the long face then?” 

The pretty man sighed, rolling his eyes and relaxing in his seat. “My friends love to police how I manage myself between shifts at the workplace I’m working at everyday and my home. They told me that I should take a breather. Which is why I’m here—by  _ their _ choice, not mine.” 

The stranger stopped talking eventually, eyes gradually becoming wider. 

His mouth moved before his brain did—

“My friend does the same thing with me—saying that I should stop looking like a zombie in the studio I work in. So he basically shoved the ticket in my hands.” Hongjoong babbled softly, eyes slightly wide as he spoke. 

_ Fuck.  _ He didn’t mean to actually speak. 

The stranger laughed softly under his breath, eyes closing and forming crescents—

He looked adorable. 

Fucking unfair. 

“You work in a studio? Oh—that’s so cool! You must love what you’re doing,” the stranger commented, with genuine interest in his eyes. 

Hongjoong blew the fringe out of his eyes, settling back into his seat, shoulders relaxed. “Yeah, I make music for a living—but we both know this isn’t an easy task.” 

The stranger nodded, urging him to speak up more as he put away his tiny luggage. 

“There’s a lot of factors to think about when making tracks—there’s the feelings expressed, the audience that will listen to it the most, the message you want to send, and so many things. So I’ve been tearing myself in half—forgetting to take care of myself.” 

The pretty man smiled, understanding swimming behind the soft grey of his eyes. 

Then, in the corner of Hongjoong’s eye, he saw the stranger gasp and facepalm himself. 

“Pardon me, you probably think I’m the rudest person in the entire universe—I forgot to introduce myself.” Hongjoong sat on the edge of his seat. 

Presenting Hongjoong his hand—which he totally didn’t marvel at for more than three seconds—he smiled. “I’m Seonghwa. Nice to meet you and an honor to be your seatmate.” 

Hongjoong took the other’s hand, smiling widely at him. 

“My name is Hongjoong.” 

Hmm. His hand was soft as hell. 

It turned out that Seonghwa was a barista at a coffee shop for only a short while—who was hired instantly for being so wonderfully polite and useful. It was to help out a friend in need, the said friend actually took care of the shop after their relative couldn’t bear to keep it running due to their old age. And Seonghwa’s friend was willing to keep the business going, and so far it was going great—they had a lot of customers and the pastries were sold quite fast. 

Hongjoong guessed it was only due to Seonghwa’s stunning features—he won’t stop thinking about it, thank you very much. 

Seonghwa seemed to be a very gentle and delicate person, by the way he was holding himself—by talking to Hongjoong as the plane started picking up speed. 

Something caught his eye as the plane started to vibrate because of the uneven asphalt underneath it, Hongjoong certainly didn’t miss the way the other man’s hands started shaking. 

He could feel his heart ache to comfort him—

“Sorry. I’m not very used to flying yet. Honestly, this scares _the_ _shit_ _out of me_.” Seonghwa declared, eyes shut in panic. 

Then—Hongjoong took a split second decision. 

Screw it. He had to do something—because he feared that Seonghwa might get sick. 

The man’s skin got paler, looking ashen under the plane lights. 

Seonghwa clenched the armrests with his slender fingers, jaw set in stone. 

Hongjoong raised his hand, with the earphones in it, and passed them in front of the other’s face. 

Urging him to put them in his ears, Hongjoong opened his laptop—it was on airplane mode, of course—and scrolled through his music, clicking on one of his songs. 

An  _ unreleased _ one, to be precise. 

Then, Hongjoong pressed play and watched Seonghwa with rapt attention. 

He watched as the black haired man’s eyes widened slowly as the music started to flow into his ears, the tone soft and gentle. 

“What is…this?” Seonghwa asked, eyes wide and earnest. 

The producer only sent him a small smile in return, putting a finger in front of his mouth— _ it’s a secret.  _

In the most adorable manner, Seonghwa’s mouth opens, making an ‘O’ shape—before smiling at him. 

“Thank you.” He mouthed back, before attempting to close his eyes and relax for a bit. 

That. That was why he made music. The relief on Seonghwa’s face was one of the reasons he made music with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

He fucking loved making music ever since he was a college student—making music was like a breath of fresh air. For Hongjoong, making music was a way of living to the fullest—to express himself and his complex emotions that he didn’t always understand. He wanted to be a comforting person, to be used in a slightly selfish way to make people feel better when they were down. 

He wanted to be a shelter for people, and he could be just  _ that _ with the help of music. 

The plane suddenly started shaking as it went through multiple turbulences—and Hongjoong felt something squeeze his hand. Very hard. 

He glanced down, and he prayed that his face didn’t go up in flames. 

Seonghwa was holding his hand, squeezing with force whenever the plane would go slightly sideways. 

As the other man realized what he was doing, he burst out a very embarrassed  _ sorry _ to him before releasing his hand and putting it on his lap, fingers shaking. 

“I am so sorry—this is so embarrassing.” 

Hongjoong put a hand on Seonghwa’s shoulders, a genuine smile on the producer’s face. “There’s nothing to feel embarrassed for. I’m not going to laugh at you for being nervous in a plane. If you feel better while holding my hand, then I’d let you hold it during the flight.” 

He didn’t know why he was willing for the other to hold his hand for over ten hours—but heh, he won’t waste that. 

“Really?” 

Hongjoong nodded. 

A pretty smile lit up Seonghwa’s face. “Thank you.” 

Then, the barista held out his hand slowly, probably to make sure that Hongjoong was still okay with it—even though he just agreed to it a few seconds ago. 

Hongjoong was touched by him asking for permission before taking his hand within his own, squeezing it gently. 

Seonghwa seemed to focus on their intertwined hands, a delightful blush blooming on his cheeks. 

Raising his gaze towards the producer, a warm smile stretched his lips and he could tell what the other was trying to tell him.  _ Thank you so much.  _

Whispering to each other softly for the next few hours in a very animated discussion, it didn’t take long before Seonghwa fell asleep, with Hongjoong watching over him like a guardian angel would. 

He glanced at the man’s face, heart swaying as he took a good look at the man’s long eyelashes that almost touched his cheekbones. Seonghwa’s nose was slightly red, along with his cheeks—which was probably what he truly looked like when he was blushing out of embarrassment. 

Hongjoong didn’t mind looking at him, though. 

His lips were relaxed, slightly opened as Seonghwa snored softly in his sleep. 

Picking a second pair of earphones out of his bag, he scrolled through his phone—picking a song at random. 

It took barely thirty minutes before his head dropped to the side, eyes completely closing, as he fell asleep on Seonghwa’s shoulder.    
  


✩

The plane was arriving at its destination when the flight attendant spoke through the mic, announcing that they were about to prepare for the descent to Cuba. Hongjoong yawned in his sweater sleeve, before wiping at his eyes to wake himself up. His pillow had been comfortable to sleep with during the flight, even though he wasn’t the type to bring one whenever he went. 

Wait a minute. 

Hongjoong nuzzled closer to the soft pillow, frowning as he realized that it was  _ warmer _ that it was supposed to be. 

Then, out of nowhere, it started to laugh softly at him. 

Eyes blinking open slowly, Hongjoong raised his head and promptly froze. 

“I’m flattered that you think I’m a soft pillow, but I couldn’t keep a straight face any longer, I apologize.” Seonghwa said in lieu of a greeting, hiding a yawn in his hand. 

A teasing smile took a hold of his mouth as the sentence left his lips, a twinkle present in his eyes. 

Hongjoong facepalmed, heat rising in his face. “I’m so sorry—I do not do that ever, don’t think of me as some creepy, perverted person—”

Seonghwa waved his hands in front of his own face, mouth opening and closing as he panicked. “No! It’s okay—we were both sleeping on each other, we were both tired. I didn’t mind, I assure you.” The barista replied, cheeks slightly pink. 

Hongjoong hid his face into his hands, an embarrassed and relieved giggle escaping him. Before he could turn around and reply to him that he wouldn’t do this again, the plane started to drop, announcing to the two boys that the flight was about to end soon. 

Seonghwa grabbed his hand again, biting at his bottom lip. 

An idea crossed Hongjoong’s mind as Seonghwa started crushing his poor fingers, it was a chance he had to take to calm the other man down. 

“What’s your favorite animal?” Hongjoong asked out of nowhere, getting a confused look thrown at him from the side. He only smiled in return, urging to respond instead of focusing on the plane. 

“ _ What _ ?”

“Answer the question, Seonghwa, I’m trying to make conversation.” 

“Oh.” 

Hongjoong giggled, breathing in as the plane turned slightly sideways once more, grabbing at Seonghwa’s arm, hoping to distract him enough so that it won’t make him panic. 

Seonghwa licked at his bottom lip, closing his eyes as he tried to gather his thoughts and just…reply to him—but Hongjoong didn’t press him further, he held the other’s hand gently as he breathed through his nose, chest heaving rapidly. 

“Huh…I’d take a wild guess and say… _ dogs _ ? They’re the best living animal on earth—and they’ll probably be  _ better _ than the average human being—since they do not know things like selfishness, jealousy and negative emotions that humans do feel from time to time.” 

Hongjoong hummed. 

“That’s deep—but I did expect that from you.” 

“How come?” Seonghwa asked, voice breaking at the last syllable. 

“You seem to find a reason to every little thing, to find a way to make it seem alive, even if it’s an inanimate object—you have a way with words that make it seem like you enjoy talking deeply with other people. I admire that about you.” 

Seonghwa blushed as he registered the genuine praise towards him, looking down at his feet. 

Hongjoong kept asking him questions as they descended towards the ground, successfully distracting him. 

The plane arrived safely to the ground, the airport visible in sight as Hongjoong looked through the small window. As it stopped completely, Hongjoong smiled at Seonghwa and took a breath, the last remaining question on his tongue. 

The people started to flow out of the airplane, the wind passing through the open door as it stayed open. 

Hongjoong stayed and kept Seonghwa company, willing to wait for him to be ready to stand up—for as long as he wanted. 

Hongjoong squeezed his hand from time to time—smiling at him, in hopes to soothe his anxiety and fear of flying, even if it might work just a bit. 

It took a total of fifteen minutes for him to fully get a hold of his emotions and stand up to gather both of their luggage, since he was the closest to the alley of the aircraft. Hongjoong took his belongings with a shy  _ thank you,  _ before following him out of the airplane. 

The hot summer air hit them before they even stepped a foot on the ground, the humidity hitting them square in the chest like a metaphorical fist. 

“Jesus Christ,” Hongjoong wheezed out as they finally set a foot on the warm asphalt. “They didn’t warn us about this scorching hot weather.” 

Seonghwa chuckled softly, seemingly endeared by Hongjoong’s whining. “If you think about it for a second, Cubans are used to this weather, which is probably why they didn’t say anything in the plane. And besides, it’s our fault for not checking the weather forecast.”

Huh. 

He wasn’t wrong. 

“Now that you say it like that—makes sense.”

Seonghwa nodded towards the airport, a simple “Should we go?” bursting out of his mouth. Hongjoong nodded in return, and they started to walk together towards their destination—the hot summer weather on their mind and a hope of finally relaxing after too many shifts in succession at their workplaces lighting up inside of them.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong passed through security without a problem, being polite towards the people in charge of customs, which scanned their personal belongings and their bodies before letting them pass officially in the airport—successfully now being in Cuba. 

Hongjoong was basically vibrating with excitement as they crossed the airport and reached the parking lot. 

It was bursting with a lot of tourists that came with the same purpose as Hongjoong—to relax on a well deserved vacation and to forget their problems. 

But it was almost suffocating at how many people were in the same place—he barely could walk without bumping in a few people, a panicked  _ sorry  _ leaving his lips. 

Someone made him trip, and Hongjoong barely had the time to brace himself to meet the ground, when a strong pair of arms caught him before he could kiss the pavement. 

The said pair of arms suddenly drove him face first into a firm chest, and he felt himself getting hugged out of nowhere. 

His heart was racing in his chest, and sweat was almost gathering in his fucking armpits because of how stressful that was—no matter how silly that sounded. 

“Are you alright? That was quite a fall there.” Seonghwa held him firmly to his chest, and Hongjoong could hear it doing somersaults as he pressed his face into his chest. 

“Fuck—that was scary, thank you for preventing me from getting my nose broken.” Seonghwa laughed at that, pressing him closer to his chest before releasing him with a nervous cough. 

Hongjoong swatted the dust off his clothes, or just any gesture to hide the red on his cheeks, and raised his head to stare at the other man. 

“I’m sorry that you have to be my fucking babysitter—I’m not normally that clumsy.” 

Seonghwa put a hand in front of the producer’s face, shaking his head at him. “Nonsense—you didn’t do anything wrong, they don’t watch where they are going.”

Hongjoong said nothing, but he didn’t believe him fully. 

He was probably just nice. 

“There’s so many people—probably because of the holiday season, Christmas is right around the corner.” 

Hongjoong nodded, eyes glancing at the sea of tourists that made him feel slightly nervous. 

“That makes me wonder,” Seonghwa spoke up as he turned around to stare at the shorter man, “how long is your vacation, exactly?” 

Hongjoong gulped, “one week.” 

Seonghwa suddenly beamed with joy, clapping his hands together. “Me too! How interesting, we have more things in common than I thought.” 

A loud, blaring sound gathered their attention, and a voice spoke about every tourist that should check the number present on their ticket, which corresponded with the number of one of the buses parked in the parking lot. 

The two boys checked their passport quickly, checking the number they have. 

“Which number do you have?” Seonghwa asked, putting his ticket back inside of his bag and grasping the handle of his giant luggage. 

“I got 8.” Hongjoong replied, double checking just to be entirely certain. 

“This is so strange, I have the same number—maybe we were destined to meet here.”

Hongjoong flushed at the innocent joy present on Seonghwa’s voice, clenching his hand around the handle of his own luggage. 

They gathered their things and rolled over to the bus number eight, greeting the bus driver that will be in charge of them both. 

Hongjoong ignored the stubborn beat of his heart as he glanced at Seonghwa’s back, climbing in the bus after the driver packed their belongings under the compartment under the vehicle. 

They sat in the same row, sparking an animated conversation together as they waited for the bus to be full. 

It turned out that Seonghwa was older than him by a few months, which made him his hyung. But it didn’t surprise him, because he was very mature, responsible and understanding of every single situation, which made Hongjoong feel safer. 

He was a soft and delicate person, he could mask well his emotions around strangers, but he would also blow up if he kept his feelings hidden—just like any person would. He wasn’t the type of person to willingly stand in the spotlight but he adapted himself around a lot of situations to make others happy and satisfied around him. 

He had a sense of humor that matched his own, which made it so much easier to talk to him and share stories of his childhood and anecdotes with him. 

Seonghwa was…for a lack of words, absolutely  _ perfect _ . 

And it scared the shit out of Hongjoong. 

✩

There were a lot of things to pay attention to, Hongjoong realized, as he looked at their surroundings while the bus picked up speed on a Cuban highway. The trees were bright and colorful, the animals he could see in the distance were healthy and very chubby, which meant they were treated well—even if there’s a few who were off wandering in the numerous streets of Holguin. 

The sky was a beautiful blue, with clouds so white, they reflected their forms in Hongjoong’s cheap sunglasses he bought inside the airport earlier. 

His eyes got stuck on Seonghwa’s graceful form beside him, not even bothering to feel embarrassed about it anymore—he let himself stare. 

Because Seonghwa was one of a kind, a piece of artwork so divine and elegant, that it sent his heart into a frenzy. 

Everything about him was special, but he didn’t know to what extent. 

At some point Seonghwa fell asleep on his shoulder, which made his heart flutter once more. 

He looked so relaxed in his sleep, lips slightly parted and a few puffs of air were escaping him. His eyelashes were so long under the lights of the bus, they were brushing his skin gently. 

Hongjoong looked away then, willing his heart to stop flustering him. 

After a drive that lasted for an hour, the bus arrived their first stop—

_ Paradisus Rio de Oro _ , which was a hotel and spa. A few people got off the bus, leaving twenty people left in the bus including Seonghwa and Hongjoong. 

Then stopping at  _ Playa Costa Verde, _ the bus dropped off at least ten people—the driver helping them unload their personal belongings and luggage. 

They stopped at  _ Club Amigo _ , which was a hotel as well—and then finally, when there were only seven people left, they arrived at their final destination,  _ Sol Rio De Luna y Mares.  _ Their hotel. 

Hongjoong might have fallen asleep during the ride—because it was mostly two hours long and stretching on two hours and a half with the driver walking off the bus to help the tourists. 

Then his eyes fluttered open just as they passed the wide gates made with gigantic trees that made an arch of them—hand raising to shake Seonghwa awake. 

“Hey, we’re here.” He said as he shook him just a tiny bit harder, smiling as Seonghwa squinted his sleepy eyes at him. 

Seonghwa straightened himself up in his seat, a string of excuses falling out of his mouth as he realized how slouched he was on Hongjoong. “Oh my god—this is embarrassing, I’m not normally sleeping bluntly on people like that.”

Hongjoong waved his excuses off, giggling. 

“I literally slept on you during the flight, it’s fine dude.”

With that, they walked off the bus and waited with the other tourists for their luggage, then turned around to climb the stairs to the  _ Mares  _ lobby. 

The producer was halfway through the stairs with his large luggage in his small arms, panting as he tried not to fall to his death—when he heard Seonghwa at the top, laughing wholeheartedly at him. 

“How did you get up here so fast?” 

Seonghwa laughed some more. “There’s a ramp, silly.” 

Oh my god. Hongjoong was undoubtedly an idiot. 

Since he was too far up, Seonghwa decided to descend the stairs to grab the other’s bag and help him climb the rest of the way—before they put down his luggage and let it roll on the linoleum marble floor. 

The white floor complimented the soap color of the walls and decorations—and were those  _ giant bird cages? _

There were a few bean couches that were suspended in air by metal poles, which formed a bird cage over the round couches. 

They then went down a few stairs once more, and Hongjoong certainly didn’t  _ miss _ the ramp and walked his luggage down onto it. 

The lobby was entirely white and very sophisticated, the furniture was in mahogany wood—and everything went well together. 

The staff behind the counter beconned Hongjoong and Seonghwa over, plastering a gentle smile on her face as she shrugged her ponytail off her shoulders. “Hi, welcome to the  _ Mares Lobby, _ is it your arrival or your departure?” She spoke happily, her spanish accent could be detected even as she spoke in perfect English. 

Hongjoong walked forward, putting his hands on the wooden counter. He could feel Seonghwa’s eyes on his back. 

“We’ve just arrived, this is where we get our hotel rooms right?” Hongjoong asked in English, a greeting smile on his face. 

“Yes, just tell me your name and show me your passport, and I’ll assign you and your husband a room.” 

“Thank you—wait,” Hongjoong babbled out, cheeks flaming. 

Seonghwa stuttered behind him, denying that they were in any way…having that  _ kind _ of relationship. 

The staff opened her mouth, skin paling as she realized her mistake. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry—I just assumed.” 

Hongjoong laughed it off, heart bouncing inside of his chest. “We literally just met during the flight—there’s nothing going on.” 

_ Oh.  _ Her eyes seemed to say, then they sparked with something else, which disappeared just as fast as it appeared. 

She grabbed Hongjoong’s passport and made him sign the registration papers—giving him his hotel room card with the number scribbled on it. 

Seonghwa then went, and got his own room—and Hongjoong’s heart sank, as this was surely where their roads were separating. 

The staff then explained how the hotel numerisation system was working on the plaza, then let them off to find where they would be staying for the rest of the week. 

Another staff member greeted them and got a hold of their luggage, saying something about “moving them to the hotel rooms ahead, to not disturb the two as they explore the place”. 

Hongjoong appreciated the gesture, because he really wanted to take a look around—the place was truly beautiful. 

There were seas of green, blue and violet colors that almost jumped into his eyes, which corresponded with the multiple pools and trees that surrounded the area. 

There was a bar inside the pool around the Mares, which peaked Hongjoong’s interest just a slight bit. 

There were a lot of blue and white chairs that were all the same tint, same size and same style—that were scattered all over the pool, which reflected the sun on them. 

Hongjoong walked all over the plaza, eyes glancing anywhere and everywhere, gasping as he saw the exotic sight surrounding them both. 

After checking the areas around the Mares lobby, they went ahead to check where their hotel rooms were—occasionally chatting along the way about everything and nothing, mostly. 

Hongjoong could only stare like a high school girl in love, staring at Seonghwa as he talked animatedly with his hands. 

He was fucked, he thought bitterly as his heart started racing once Seonghwa’s eyes found his. 

✩

Destiny or whatever was in charge of this voyage, and definitely was on Hongjoong’s side that week, because he quickly found out that Seonghwa was going to stay in the room just beside his own. 

Yeah—lucky son of a bitch. 

He had to admit it, maybe they were meant to meet. 

They decided to unpack their personal belongings one at a time, starting with Hongjoong—he wanted to refuse Seonghwa’s help, because he sure as hell wasn’t a  _ weakling— _ but his mouth started working the moment Seonghwa took a gentle hold of his arm, pouting at him. 

_ “Please let me help you, I’m feeling generous at the moment.” _ He had said. The smooth fucker. 

So they proceeded to place Hongjoong’s clothes in the drawers and inside the closet that was in the room—the producer was surprised at how big the room is, and there were three cabinets to put your personal belongings into. 

After they were done with Hongjoong, they didn’t waste time and went straight to Seonghwa’s room—the barista smiling at Hongjoong as they placed his dark clothes over his colorful fits inside the cabinet. 

Hongjoong’s heart fluttered as he imagined Seonghwa dressed all in pastels, cheeks reddening. 

As soon as they were done unpacking, they walked all the way towards the Mares lobby once again, but not missing to glance around the Luna Lobby Area—that was were most of the hotel rooms were, which extended towards the Mares Lobby as well—gasping in awe at the raw beauty of the plaza. 

As they crossed the pool area close to the Mares Lobby, their stomach growled in tandem—making Hongjoong realize that they haven’t eaten in more than ten hours. 

Seonghwa, who had coughed in embarrassment to hide that his stomach was a little bit insolent, put a gentle hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder. He pointed to the terrace filled with more than a hundred tables and chairs. “Shall we eat? That place is right here, might as well take advantage of it.” 

He was right. 

Hongjoong followed him into the lobby, searching together for the entrance to the restaurant. 

They searched for it for at least five minutes—because they took the time to get familiar with the place, so that they don’t get lost in the future. 

Two men that were posted in front of a pair of wooden doors smiled at them, greeting them in Spanish, then English. 

Seonghwa only giggled nervously, teeth clenched as he tried to reply through his tired state. 

_ “Good morning!”  _ Hongjoong greeted in his second language with a cheer in his voice, bowing at them shortly before dragging the barista into the restaurant. 

“Jesus, flights are tiring—never thought I wouldn’t be able to function after that.” 

Hongjoong only tapped at the other’s back, understanding what he meant—since he was equally tired. 

They went directly for the buffet, a sort of large gigantic kitchen with multiple stands—which contained different food items. 

It was currently six in the evening, which meant that most of the food displayed there was mostly main dishes like pasta, a lot of meat, vegetables and bread. Hongjoong was almost drooling at the display and his stomach was growling like a starved beast unleashed into the wild—and both of the young men could hear it. 

Seonghwa giggled at him as picked up their empty plates that were recently washed and cleaned, because the warmth could be felt through the porcelain. 

The two adults filled their plates at their taste, and went to choose a table to spend their dinner at. 

“Huh—I’m not annoying you with my presence, right? I don’t want to invade your space.” Seonghwa asked as he sat down with his plate, large innocent eyes boring through Hongjoong’s. 

Hongjoong picked up his fork, looking up at him. “No—actually, I appreciate that I met you today. This will make our trip less boring, don’t you agree? Unless  _ you  _ think I’m annoying and invading your space?” 

Seonghwa gasped, almost offended. 

“Of course not! I appreciated meeting you today.” Seonghwa looked like he wanted to say more, judging by the way he bit down on his bottom lip. 

Hongjoong ate a forkful of pasta, licking at his lips and urging the former barista to continue. 

Seonghwa ducked his head, nipping at a piece of garlic bread. 

“I mean, I didn’t want to even dare asking you that but—I wanted to ask you if we could spend our vacation together? If it’s not too much?”

Hongjoong stared at him, speechless. 

Seonghwa seemed to take it the wrong way, because he apologized right afterwards—cheeks flaming in horror. 

“You probably do not want to hang out with me, oh my god—I’m so sorry.”

Hongjoong shook his head vividly, grabbing his hand on a whim. 

Oh. 

It wasn’t just because Seonghwa was  _ super fucking attractive _ that he jumped on the occasion to spend time with him. 

It was because he was kind, polite and he was one of a kind—and they were on the road of becoming friends, he won’t make it go to waste. 

“Hey, hey. I would love to hang out with you during the trip—you’re the first friend I have made on a flight—and it’s less lonesome when we’re together. And besides, I think you’re great.” 

Saying that was so fucking worth it—

Because Hongjoong couldn’t shake off how intense his heartbeats had gotten when Seonghwa grinned at him, showing perfect white teeth. 

He was pretty sure he had a crush on the guy. 

✩

Hongjoong and Seonghwa spent a lot of time together as the days went on, not really annoyed by each other’s presence—which was a good sign to Hongjoong, which ultimately meant that Seonghwa didn’t hate him  _ yet _ . 

They spent their peaceful time discussing different topics in animated conversations, sometimes at the beach, at the pool and during breakfast, lunch and dinner. 

Sometimes, they would just hang out in each other’s hotel rooms, eating snacks they bought in the stores nearby the lobbies as they watched movies on the tv. 

But Hongjoong especially thought that Seonghwa was more endearing than any rom-com. He was more beautiful than the paintings you would normally find in museums. 

He was simply a piece of artwork—that was flawed in the best way possible, but with so many great points. 

Seonghwa was kind, soft-spoken and polite. Always speaking animatedly with his hands when he was excited about certain things. 

He was so fucking  _ kind _ , comforting and understanding about all kind of situations. He wasn’t the type to ask for attention, but he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind in the most eloquent way, and he would shape himself around Hongjoong to make him happy—to  _ fit _ around him. 

And god, that made him fall so deeply for him. 

He was one of a kind, and he was simply and irrevocably in love with the man. 

Hongjoong stared at Seonghwa’s face as they watched a movie about a little girl with her horse companion—marveled at the way the other’s eyes would crinkle around the corners as he laughed at a thing the character said to sound “quirky”. 

Fuck. He was too beautiful for his own good. 

He was getting too mushy for Christmas. 

“This type of movie might not be for men in their twenties, since the humor is very childish-like, but it’s…refreshing. Don’t you think so?” 

Hongjoong only blinked, not answering. 

Seonghwa waved in his hand in front of the producer’s face, who jumped from his position on the bed. “Jesus Christ, don’t scare me like that.” 

Seonghwa only looked more amused than ever, smirk pulling his slightly pink lips. 

“You’ve been spacing out for an hour, I’ve been watching you.” The black haired man replied, then slammed his jaw shut the second his words registered in his brain. 

Hongjoong opened his mouth, then closed it, wondering what to do with it. 

He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t breathe. 

He knew he couldn’t react—because maybe that was just a friendly,  _ platonic _ comment meant to mess with him—

Not to jeopardize his fucking insides like it was doing  _ right now _ . 

Seonghwa looked mortified, and it was enough to tell him that it was perhaps…more. 

More than that. 

And Hongjoong didn’t know what to do with that information. 

“Before we go anywhere else, what did you mean by you’ve been ‘watching me’?” Hongjoong started, very slowly, to hide how fast his heart had been beating. 

Seonghwa hid his hands in his hands, the longest and heaviest sigh leaving his body. 

When he raised his head, however, Hongjoong saw a hint of red on his cheeks that wasn’t there before. 

“Please, hear me out and don’t…run away.” Seonghwa started, eyes slowly drawn to Hongjoong’s. 

“I like you, I like you a lot—as a friend, mostly.” The older man started, the few words only making it harder for Hongjoong to breathe and pretend that everything was okay. 

“But I would be a fucking liar if I didn’t say that my affections towards you aren’t more than platonic. I’ve always watched you, when you weren’t looking.” 

Hongjoong was frozen, he couldn’t even react. 

His bottom lip wobbled with emotions that were mostly a secret to the producer—but they were  _ there _ nonetheless. 

He felt shame, a big ball of shameful energy gripping at him from the inside. 

He didn’t want to put Seonghwa in such a bad predicament—he knew it and yet he didn’t stop the black haired man from speaking. 

“Call me selfish, but I wanted to keep you to myself—to relish in the feelings I developed further, but I realized how hypocritical I’ve been to myself. I tortured myself by spending more time with you, but letting my feelings for you get even  _ stronger _ .”

Seonghwa took a hold of Hongjoong’s hand, the latter gasping as their hands made gentle contact. 

His hands were so soft, compared to the way his heart was beating in his ribcage. 

“I cannot ask of you a response, and it’s very alright if you do not feel the same—but I cannot hide my feelings anymore. I wanted you to know what my deepest desire was.” 

Hongjoong gulped, confused. 

“What is? What is your desire?” Hongjoong asked, out of breath as they leaned closer towards each other. 

Seonghwa mapped out Hongjoong’s face with his breathtaking eyes, gaze glancing at every square inch of his features. “I…I wanted you. For so long.” 

Hongjoong couldn’t help but flush bright red at the revelation. 

“Really?” 

Seonghwa only nodded, looking away. 

“Seonghwa. Look at me.” The producer took a hold of his hand, then cupped the barista’s cheek with the other. 

“You don’t understand how happy you just made me by having the courage to put your heart out to me like that. I share those feelings for you too, Seonghwa. And I was too much of a coward to tell you those feelings. But I can’t stay hidden  _ anymore _ .”

Seonghwa gaped at the smaller young man, cheeks flaming. 

Fuck, he was adorable. 

That made Hongjoong want to kiss him. 

Then, as if he could read his mind, Seonghwa leaned a slight bit closer to him on the bed. Shifting on his front with his arms leaned on the bed sheet, he crawled into Hongjoong’s bubble—

They were so close—so close, their lips could only brush together. 

“Is this okay?” The barista asked, eyes shifting to Hongjoong’s. 

Hongjoong’s heart fluttered in his chest at the proximity, nodding as he finally let himself have what he wanted for four total days now. “Yeah.” 

Seonghwa then reached out to him, hand cupping at the pink haired man’s jaw and bringing their lips together in a tender touch. 

Hongjoong exhaled in relief in Seonghwa’s mouth, letting his eyes close and reciprocate the kiss he was given. 

Hongjoong felt Seonghwa’s hand glide to the back of his neck, holding him in place as he tilted his head and changed the angle of their gentle and soft kiss. 

Hongjoong felt alive in that moment, like someone just blew happiness and joy into his body and soul, like it was a simple breeze. 

He felt cherished by Seonghwa, as he felt him lick at his bottom lip. He parted his lips, letting him in with a relieved whimper. 

Fuck. 

He wanted this for so long. 

He could appreciate what he was feeling at the moment. 

Overwhelming joy and happiness. 

Lust. 

Relief. 

And all those things were swirling inside of him while Seonghwa nibbled at his bottom lip, kissing him further and longer. 

Hongjoong brushed his hands into the other’s hair, the soft dark locks coming apart through his fingers. 

He then gripped at them, getting a surprised groan out of the older man. 

They pulled away simultaneously from each other, panting and gathering oxygen into their lungs. 

Hongjoong brushed a few fingers in his fringe, taking a good look at Seonghwa—which made heat spark in his belly. 

He looked absolutely delectable, with kiss-swollen lips that were the color of cherries and his piercing eyes that were veiled with lust and  _ want _ . 

“Wow, that was…” Seonghwa started, breathless. 

“Yeah,” Hongjoong repeated, just as equally breathless. 

“So, where do we go afterwards? With this?” The older man declared, pointing between him and Hongjoong, a question on his pretty lips. 

Hongjoong gave him a weak shrug, not knowing that answer either. 

“I have no idea, but we could…start slow? Getting accustomed to each other and just  _ existing _ with each other?” The producer trailed off, eyes looking down at his lap. 

He missed the relieved smile Seonghwa sent him by a second. 

“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.” The man replied, sending pleasant chills down Hongjoong’s spine. 

He had to control himself—he wanted to squeal like an excited puppy, but he would just look ridiculous in front of the person he liked. 

“Is it alright if I sleep with you?” The producer asked, while a burst of courage ran its course through him, almost cackling when he saw Seonghwa choke on his saliva. 

“S-sleep?” 

Hongjoong rolled his eyes fondly, swatting at the man’s chest. “Nope, not like that—not yet, I might find you attractive as fuck, but I’m not going to  _ jump _ you.” 

Seonghwa went even redder, not expecting such words to come out of Hongjoong’s mouth. 

Seonghwa squealed, hiding his gorgeous face in his hands. “Don’t say it like that, I will lose my cool.” 

“And how do you lose your cool, pretty boy?” 

“I hate you.” Seonghwa whined in protest—legs flapping on the bed. 

Hongjoong then giggled. “You don’t.” 

Seonghwa then did something that surprised both of them at once, he raised himself up and claimed Hongjoong’s mouth passionately, kissing the breath out of him. 

Hongjoong was left putty in his hands, almost purring at the way Seonghwa was holding him—one hand on his hips and the other at the back of his head. 

“I really don’t.” 

Hongjoong couldn’t breathe. 

But he was so fucking happy and thrilled. 

✩

Seonghwa surprised the producer two days later, by taking him to a restaurant right on the beach next to the resort—successfully stealing his heart for the fifth time in a week. 

The only thing that warned him on what was coming was Seonghwa leaving a letter with his beautiful handwriting on Hongjoong’s hotel room, telling him to dress well for the evening. 

Hongjoong was nervous, for the right reasons—because obviously Seonghwa was taking his sweet time taking it slow, exploring the feelings they hold for the other.

But Hongjoong realized that he didn’t want  _ slow _ anymore. 

He wanted to tell him how intense his feelings had gotten, that he wanted to take him apart with his words and his affection for him. 

He wanted  _ something _ . 

And he had to tell him at some point—because he never felt that towards somebody before. 

It wasn’t exactly Love—but more like a road that lead to love. 

Hongjoong was sure he could grow to _love_ _him_ , it was inevitable. 

But he didn’t have the strength or courage to tell him that—because it sounded absurd. He just met Seonghwa six days ago—it was absolutely impossible for someone to fall that fast for someone. 

And yet, Seonghwa was not  _ impossible _ . He was real and interested in him—maybe it was the proof he needed. 

There was a question on the producer’s tongue, and he took the chance to ask it during the dinner—as they were eating mouthfuls of lobster and other types of seafood. 

Hongjoong ate slowly, eyes glancing towards the other. “What is this? Is that a hang out between friends or…is this perhaps something more? It’s driving me insane—I don’t want to think your gesture is in the wrong place.” 

Seonghwa stopped munching on a lobster leg, head raising. 

“What?”

Hongjoong sighed in impatience, roughly rubbing his face. 

“Is this a date?” The words made him feel putty, and his legs became like jelly—just like his  _ fucking-lovesick-fool-ass _ heart. 

“Yes? Was the letter not clear enough? If it wasn’t, I’m sorry.” Seonghwa said right off the bat, making Hongjoong feel intensely bad for being obtuse. 

“Oh god—I’m a fucking idiot. Please don’t apologize, it’s adorable coming from you really, don’t make that face.” 

That sentence was enough to lift the barista’s spirit. “Sorry, I was really invested into taking you on a date properly…then forgot to actually take you into consideration.” 

Hongjoong blushed at the other’s earnest answer. He then took a hold of Seonghwa’s hand and smiled softly at him, touched by everything he had done to impress him for a first date. 

“Hey, it doesn’t have to be extravagant for me to like it, it doesn’t have to be  _ perfect _ . You’re enough for me. And I appreciate this a lot, thank you Seonghwa.” 

Then without wasting time, Seonghwa took Hongjoong’s hand and raised it to his lips, pressing light kisses on it, making Hongjoong’s heart flutter in his chest. 

“I like you a lot,” Seonghwa started, cheeks reddening while Hongjoong went back to his food, not bothering to swat his hand away from the other’s grasp. 

His hand was warm and great to hold. 

“And I want to explore this relationship with you, even after this vacation ends—is that okay with you?” 

Hongjoong smiled so wide that his cheeks started to hurt. 

“Of course I want to, silly.” 

The two boys looked at each other, something passing behind their eyes. 

A groan left Hongjoong’s lips, while Seonghwa had the nerve to look at him with barely hidden lust, the  _ fucking bastard.  _

Seonghwa didn’t say a word, only left his napkin on the table with his empty plate—and stood up to leave the restaurant, looking back at Hongjoong as he did so. 

Oh. 

That was an invitation. 

Hongjoong almost burst through the table as he cleared his side of the table in record time, cheeks flaming as he almost ran to him in his haste. 

“You look delectable, by the way. I could just eat you up right here and there.” 

Seonghwa grabbed his hand and intertwined their fingers, the gesture oddly innocent compared to the sinful smirk he was sporting right now. 

Hongjoong was embarrassingly half-hard in his pants already. 

The road to the hotel was insufferable, because he knew what was coming—he was fucking excited for it—and he just wanted to spend some alone time with Seonghwa. 

The second the door opened, Hongjoong pushed Seonghwa inside the latter’s room, pushing him against the back of the door and planting his lips on the other’s. 

Seonghwa responded eagerly, brushing his hands against Hongjoong’s clothed body as they made out against the door. 

Hongjoong felt the heat in his belly intensify slowly but surely, as he swallowed the beautiful noises Seonghwa was making against his mouth. 

The producer detached his lips against the other’s and latched his mouth to the skin of his neck, relishing in the way Seonghwa squirmed and whined underneath him. 

“You’re so beautiful, I can’t believe it.” Hongjoong mumbled in his neck, stopping his ministrations to hug Seonghwa instead. 

“I don’t like the tone you’re using, baby.” 

The pink haired man pouted at him, not expecting Seonghwa to figure him out that fast. 

“I just—well, it’s hard to believe that you have feelings for me, you’re so wonderful and I’m…just  _ me _ .” Hongjoong whispered into the empty space, staring up at the person who possessed his heart. 

Seonghwa shook his head, cupping Hongjoong’s cheeks as he leaned away from the door and approached him gently. “You don’t see the way I’m seeing you—you’re incredible, you’re the most endearing person I’ve ever met. You’re intelligent, empathetic, generous and full of joy—and god, you’re the most beautiful piece of art I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” Seonghwa stared him down, eyes absolutely genuine and affectionate. 

Hongjoong couldn’t bear seeing this eyes. 

It made his heart ache. 

He could feel the familiar prickle of tears behind his eyes and he had to turn away, walking away from the man he  _ loved _ . 

It was too fast—

And what if he told Seonghwa that he Loved him—

Would he leave him behind and pretend nothing even bloomed between them? 

Would he leave him to rot in his love that was currently drowning him to his core?

Fuck. 

He was fully crying and he couldn’t stop it. 

“Hongjoong?”

“Fuck, this is so hard.” The producer remarked, gulping with difficulty. 

“I’m going to speak and you will listen, for me. Because I won’t say it again—it’s embarrassing enough as it is.” 

Seonghwa only nodded, approaching the smaller man before urging him to sit on the bed, like Hongjoong was close to hysterics.

He probably looked like it, because he was losing his _fucking_ _marbles_. 

“I’m all ears, Hongjoong.” 

He took a deep breath, and cleared his conscience. 

“When I said I had feelings for you, I meant it. I mean it so fucking much, Seonghwa, you have no idea how much. And I do not want this relationship between us to end due to my own  _ choice _ of confessing to you again,” Hongjoong babbled as Seonghwa brushed a hand down the producer’s spine, hoping to calm him down. “My manager would probably tell me that I’m insane—I’m probably insane to feel this way towards you anyways—but I’m pretty sure I’m on the bumpy road to falling in love with you. I’m pretty sure—I’m fucking head over heels with you already.” Hongjoong stopped speaking, because sobs were bursting through his throat. Seonghwa took him in his arms, shushing him softly as the younger man cried into his chest. 

“I think…I do not feel the same for you yet, Hongjoong. But you’re so lovable, I’d be a complete fool not to fall in love with you. Feelings change over time, and mine will only get  _ stronger _ . For you. I like you a lot.” 

That made Hongjoong cry harder—happy and relieved sobs racking through him as he let Seonghwa hold him for god-knows-how-long. 

When Hongjoong got a hold of his emotions, the two young men spoke the rest of the night—speaking of their feelings that ran deep. 

And perhaps in the middle of it all, Seonghwa tasted Hongjoong, watching in rapt awe as he fell apart under his touch. 

He held him tight in between his arms as he undressed him with all the delicacy that was left in this world.

Their bodies slotted together like missing puzzle pieces, fitting like they always belonged. 

Seonghwa could only stare at the other, Hongjoong’s body dripping with sweat. 

The latter moaned as Seonghwa took care of him for the next few hours, body writhing under the bed sheets as they made love for the first time. 

He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

That was how he wanted this to go. 

With Seonghwa by his side. 

✩

They said goodbye to their hotel rooms with a bitter feeling sinking into their stomachs—already missing the warm sun of Cuba on their tan skins. 

They spent their last day getting their luggage to the staff—so that they could load them into the loading trunk of the truck that will eventually lead them to the airport. 

They spent their morning at the beach, lizarding under the blazing sun and sipping some alcohol while sitting on their chairs deep in the sand. They went for a second date during lunch, holding hands under the table—blushing as they heard the welcoming waitresses coo at them. 

Hongjoong was totally in love with the guy, he was certain at this point. 

They said goodbye to their rooms afterwards, crocodile tears rolling down their faces as they went for the Mares Lobby to wait for the bus to get ready for their departure. 

They didn’t mind going back to Korea—after all, both of them found  _ something _ —or rather, someone very special—to live properly for. 

For Hongjoong, Seonghwa was everything. 

He could watch him just sleep, breathe, eat and swim all year long, without feeling bored out of his mind. He was  _ that _ captivating. 

And not to mention that everything was better with him by his side. 

As they settled inside the bus once it was ready, Hongjoong thought about the older’s habits that he didn’t miss during their week together. 

The way his eyes would crinkle when he laughed so brightly, that his teeth would show. 

The way he would dart his tongue out when Seonghwa was possessed by overwhelming curiosity or innocence, like he was deeply immersed by something new he’d learn about. 

The way Seonghwa would dart that tongue again when Hongjoong would tell him something, and that he didn’t waste time into repeating the same words—as if to appropriate that moment. 

The way Seonghwa would brush his hair back away from his forehead when he was hunched over reading a book or two, not even irritated about how many times he had to do the same gesture. 

All of these habits had his heart beating faster everytime he would take a look at him. 

And he was extremely lucky to even have a _minuscule_ _place_ inside of Seonghwa’s heart. 

All was good. 

Everything was going at their pace. 

Not too slow, not too fast either. 

It was  _ Seonghwa _ and  _ Hongjoong’s _ pace. 

It was only Seonghwa and Hongjoong. 

Seonghwa bumped him gently in the shoulder as they were sitting inside the plane—the flight halfway through its course back to South Korea. “What are you thinking about?” 

Hongjoong smiled, cheeks flaming just a bit. 

“I’m thinking about you. Simple as that.” 

Seonghwa laughed softly at that, nuzzling Hongjoong’s cheek in response. 

God, he was adorable. 

“Can you believe that if I wasn’t late a week ago, we wouldn’t be  _ this _ close today? We probably wouldn’t even have talked to each other.”

Hongjoong hummed, putting his head on the other’s shoulder. 

“For once, I’ll be happy at someone’s nonexistent punctuality.” 

He yawned as the words came out of his mouth, stretching his legs. 

“I’m happy we met, Seonghwa. I really do.” 

Seonghwa took him gently by the chin, connecting their lips in a tender kiss. 

Butterflies flew in his stomach, woken up by his feelings that flared up as he stared at Seonghwa’s pretty features. 

“Me too.”

They woke up once more as the flight arrived at its destination, excitement sparking in their bodies as they saw the familiar environment that they were born in, the Incheon Airport greeting them. Gathering their luggage, going through security and then some, they did it without any haste. 

Because they didn’t like what was coming next. They certainly didn’t want to think about it. 

Their departure from each other. 

Going back to their original lives. 

Hongjoong didn’t want to part from Seonghwa. 

As if the other man could read his mind, Seonghwa grabbed him by the arm and made them both stop walking. Hongjoong, turning around with a mix of confusion and curiosity plastered on his face, stared at him without a word. 

Seonghwa stared back, refusing to move from his spot. 

“Seonghwa, what are you doing?” Hongjoong whispered, staring at the tourists who were flooding the arrival lobby, passing them by and occasionally bumping into them as they went home to celebrate Christmas with their families, Hongjoong mused. 

Seonghwa looked at his feet, rolling his lips and seemingly trying to find the right words to say. 

Then, he let his personal belongings slide to the floor, and then grabbing Hongjoong’s luggage and doing the same with his bags. 

“I want to have this—this last thing before we have to separate. Can I please be selfish with you for a few minutes?” Hongjoong could only nod, he was too touched to say anything back. 

Seonghwa put one careful hand on his waist, the other going for Hongjoong’s hand. They then started waltzing together, ignoring the cacophony of the airport speakers and the screaming children in the background—it was only them. 

They probably looked goofy and ridiculous, dancing in the airport in the main lobby—but this was all that was left for them, the only line separating them from their original lives. 

They couldn’t waste it. 

Hongjoong stared at Seonghwa, a bright smile curling on his lips as they danced together. 

At some point, Seonghwa’s hands ended up cupping the producer’s cheeks, and the older man ducked to press his lips on his. 

Hongjoong kissed back with everything he had stored in his tiny body—heart threatening to burst out of his chest. 

They parted, leaning their foreheads together—just existing in each other’s orbits for a few minutes. 

Then, out of nowhere, the black haired man yanked a piece of paper out of his pocket, slamming it weakly against Hongjoong’s chest. 

“Now—if you don’t text or call me in the next hour, a third date won’t happen.” Hongjoong balked. 

Oh my god. 

Seonghwa took it upon himself to give him his number—he didn’t even think about that. 

Bursting into fits of laughter, Hongjoong nuzzled his way into his chest. 

“Merry Christmas, Hongjoong.” 

God, he was fucking perfect. 

Hongjoong hugged him, thinking that he wouldn’t let him go—ever. 

Seonghwa was his treasure. 

He would cherish him for as long as he lived. 


End file.
